When Size Does Matter

Lego is my life. After several hours, bleeding fingers and a village made of: one plane, one ambulance, one house, several robots, a few sculptures and one 18 wheeler truck later, DS and I decided to get some fresh air. DS and I wandered to a local park today - a small park about a 5-10 minute walk away. It's one he hasn't been to in quite a while - several months at least. We get into the park and DS has a good race around and then says to me (with an edge of hysteria in his voice), "Mum? Something's wrong here! I think they remodeled this park!" The park hasn't changed one iota, but I could sense where this conversation was going. So, innocently, I ask DS, "Really? What do you mean?" to which DS replied, "Well the slide is much shorter and less twistier than it used to be, and the ramp to the play area is *much* shorter, and the see-saw isn't as bouncy as it used to be. It's kinda like the whole playground just...you know...well, its SHRUNK, Mum!"

He really believes that the park got smaller.

What he doesn't realise is that the park stayed the same, it's just that he has gotten taller, and stronger, and smarter in the meantime. The flying fox he was terrified of is now "weeeee!! look at meeeeeeeeeeee!" as he flies across. The twisty slide is an excuse to see how many ways you can go down - on your stomach, on your back, with legs in the air, backwards....the "baby" slide is for climbing up and the see-saw is for practising balancing on, not sitting on. Some of the apparatus he is now too tall for - he has to crouch down to see through the binoculars, and when he runs across the metal platform it sounds like a herd of wildebeest.

When I look at all he has achieved in the past few months, I think there is no greater gift than the privilege of being a part of his growing up. When he wonders why the park has undergone a major shrinkage, I find myself thinking that his growing up sucks. I miss my baby boy already.